


It's a big, big mutant world

by Akira14



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:56:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira14/pseuds/Akira14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here I am going to collect every short (drabble/flashfic) thing I write about either XMFC or DOFP.<br/>They will be mainly Cherik, but there will also be character studies and anything that comes to my mind or that is prompted to me. As usual: Chapter (fic in English) - Capitolo (fic in Italian).</p><p>Chapter 1: The awakening of Charles' power<br/>Chapter 2: Sex on the plane (Logan POV)<br/>Chapter 3: Cherik & Piano (setting: XMFC)<br/>Chapter 4: Happy Birthday, Erik<br/>Chapter 5: Happy Birthday, Charles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "It started when you were nine. You thought you were going crazy, all those voices in your head..."
> 
> MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE AND DRUNK PARENTS

It all began when he was nine.  
It all began with Kurt's vicious voice in his head.  
He did not think too much of it: the man was always mumbling about all that he had to endure for a ridicule amount of money. About a wife who was always drunk, and a stepson who was constantly annoying.  
After the umpteenth "what?” to which Kurt replied with "I said nothing, you spoiled brat" he just stopped asking.  
It was nothing. It was just his imagination.

The voices didn't stop, though. They increased. There was the hazy _'Must get another drink.'_ or a bitter _'Why are you looking at me like that, Charles, when I gave you all?'_ coming from his mother. There were rather vivid flashes of both him and Cain being beaten nearly to death, whenever his stepbrother was near.  
And going out, amongst the hustle and bustle of people in the streets... Well, that was **hell**.  
Screams and yells, whispers and mutters, images of rage and suffering. Lewd remarks about women, dirty pictures about the matters of the flesh (some about him, too, and _those_ really made him puke) profanities towards the Lord almighty and all kinds of sick and twisted things one could come up with.  
There was good too, there was peace and quiet and pretty pictures of happy days gone by... Not enough to silence the rest, however.

Maybe he was possessed.  
Which meant he should ignore them all - **especially** those begging for help - and look for someone who could perform an exorcism. Or perhaps the Lord was testing him, so he should reach out and the people in need and endure the others.  
Maybe he was just going crazy.  
Which meant he really was nothing but a bother to his family.

For three years, he looked for answers, feigning illnesses and headaches to avoid stepping out of the mansion.  
For three years, he almost cried himself to sleep, only to wake up more resolved the next day.

It was only when met with someone who looked like his mother but didn't speak with her words that he finally understood.  
What he heard in his head, what he saw, weren't _voices_ or _flashes_ : they were **thoughts**.

It all began with Kurt Marko.  
It all ended with Raven Darkholme.


	2. Did someone say 'chess' ?

Logan has seen a great many things in his long - so fucking long - life but never has he seen chess used as foreplay.  
To him, it is just a rather frustrating (and boring) _game_. Not to Charles or Erik, obviously. They move their pieces slowly, carefully, and keep stealing glances when they think the other isn't watching.  
And just when he thinks it can't possibly get any worse, they do dare to look at each other.

It only takes about a minute before Charles starts squirming under what must be a pretty heated glare.  
Not that the look he is giving Erik is any less suggestive of very dirty and messy things to come, really. If his powers included undressing someone with his mind - they do not, thanks to God or WhoeverIsUpThere - Erik would be nearly naked right now and as for Charles himself, well, Logan guesses that he would't fare much better.

Indeed, for the first time since met this problematic past version of the Professor, the absence of his telepathic abilities is quite a blessing for him.   
Because he really doesn't wanna know anything more than what is written on Charles' face, which, by the way,it's already way too much for him to bear. Or to face the Professor and Magneto in the future without picturing them screwing each other's brains out.

Still, he's starting to feel rather uncomfortable despite their attempts to keep it cool and quiet.  
He _knows_ he is intruding on something private, without having to see Charles kneel between the other man's legs. Not that they would ever give in so blatantly to the sexual tension between them, of course. Having a quickie and get it over with has never been an option. It would be too easy a solution, for two people like these stubborn motherfuckers.  
Whatever. He doesn't care.

Logan is done being the third wheel, thank you very much. Whether they fuck or don't is not his fucking business, okay? He's just not gonna stay here and see if it happens.   
Keeping Hank some company seems a far better choice, now.

"Hey..." He half-growls, stepping into the cockpit.  
"Good evening to you too, Logan. I expected to see you here a lot sooner, to be honest. Nobody ever lasted that long alone with Erik and Charles, especially when they start 'playing chess'. "  
Logan just grunts, which Hank must interpret as 'Yeah, right.' because he immediately adds: "No, really: color me impressed. With those two you never know if you're witnessing an amicable sparring or a mating ritual of some kind. Tell me that they get better at being subtle, in the future, please."  
"If that's what you want, kid, I can tell you a **lie**. They basically told me to come here and play matchmaker, even though the key of it all seems to be Mystique. Couldn't really see why _this_ Magneto tagging along seemed a good idea to those though, but now-"  
He stops in mid-sentence, hearing a heavy thud coming from behind them. Should he go check that they aren't killing each other? Hank is totally unfazed, though, as if this is a pretty common occurence. He's about to start speaking again, when he hears another thud. Followed by a series of whispered curses and muffled moans. 

They certainly didn't waste time, did they? Should have seen it coming, since they haven't much at their disposal, being the assholes they are who prefer to spend decades fighting rather than finding a middle ground.  
Logan really needs to find something that can distract him. Immediately.  
Like teasing Hank for his obvious crush on Mystique.

"Rumor has it that you've got it bad for Mystique..." He simply states, waiting for Hank's reaction.  
"Raven. And I don't know what you're talking about." Defensive. Good. That's exactly what he hoped for.  
This is gonna be fun. Not as fun as teasing Summers, but still... Better than being stuck with Charles and Erik, right?  
"So... Does she know?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "piano"
> 
> I AM SO SORRY ABOUT MY INABILITY TO WRITE SMUT :(

Of course he has a piano. Of course he can play it quite well.  
This is, after all, the **mansion** of a priviliged man who had - and still has - all the time in the world to practice and the money to hire a tutor at his disposal. One that takes his luxurious life for granted, who manages to seem rather dismissive and unappreciating of the family that has made it possible. A family that has been forgotten, replaced only by Raven. 

By all means, this shouldn't be surprising.  
Yet, it _is_ to him. Surprising and rather fascinating to witness, too.  
He cannot take his eyes off Charles, off his nimble and graceful fingers barely grazing the keys, as the room fills with the most exquisite music.  
He must have noticed Erik is lingering by the doorway, must have heard the echo of thoughts he's not exactly holding back. In particular, the ones concerning what he would like to do to Charles on the flat surface of that grand piano. Nevertheless, he pretends that he has not perceived a single thing.  
Only when the sonata comes to an end, he stops. Only after he shuts the fallboard close, he turns to face Erik.

"Oh!" He says, sounding genuinely surprised. "Sorry I've kept you waiting, my friend. I fail to notice what goes on around me when I focus on the music. Hope my performance wasn't too bad; it's been years since I had to resort to this, but it really helps tuning out other people's thoughts... " He doesn't mention the pleas for help, too many for him to reach out and help everyone. It's a cross he has to bear: he has made peace with that a long time ago.  
Before Erik can comment with any kind of vitriolic remark about embracing one's power and never hiding away from it, Charles adds "... not that I do not appreciate, and exploit a little too often, my telepathy but I assure you that it can be quite overwhelming never to have a _single_ moment for myself, in here." He smiles, tapping his right temple with two fingers.

"Especially since you stared using Cerebro." It's not that hard to guess that, despite Charles has trained himself to keep the voices out unless he is not purposefully trying to get into someone's head, he has yet to figure out how to handle a machine that amplifies his abilities so much.  
"Yeah, it takes me back to when I was twelve and still learning to stop stupid people projecting their equally idiotic opinions on me. Except now it's actually worse, since I can hear them from miles away." He pinches at the bridge of his nose, trying to chase away the remnants of his migraine.  
"They never quite know how to shut up, do they?" He slowly walks to Charles, careful about keeping his mind as clear as possible - a pretty difficult endeavour, when Charles is looking at him with those bright blue eyes of his and even, absent-mindedly, licking his lips - halting when he's within arm's reach. "Can I?" He asks, leaning toward the other man and placing his fingers on his temples.  
"Yes, please." Charles sighs, not feeling ashamed in the slightest about the blissful look on his face as Erik massages the headache away.  
"I'd like to suggest a few other activities that can keep your mind off other people's thoughts, Charles. And no, I'm not talking about playing chess." He grins, barely supressing the urge to kiss the man's forehead.  
"Do tell." Charles leans in a little, just enough to kiss him on the lips. When Erik is about to reciprocate, though, he leans back on the chair. Because he's a tease, that's what he is.  
"I'd rather show it to you. Words cannot fully express what I have in mind for you." He grasps at his nape, bites at his bottom lip and then nibbles on his ear.  
"That sounds threatening, you know?" Charles points out, shivering a little but not moving a muscle to distance himself from Erik.  
"It's not a threat, though. It's a promise." 

One of the few that Erik knows how to keep, but Charles doesn't know about that.  
He doesn't know how frustrating this man can be, how painfully disappointing.

Not yet. But he will.


	4. Happy Birthday, Erik.

As hard as he tries to feign indifference on _this_ particular day, he _always_ fails. Year after year, he wakes up to the sound of his mother's voice in his ear, softly saying "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, mein Liebling".

He has never forgot the touch of her lips on his forehead, as she kissed him before leaving the room to let him sleep just a little bit more. She knew the smell of breakfast would eventually lead him to the table. No fancy cake or pricey pastries. Just pancakes and chocolate or eggs, wursts and toast. He never needed else. And as he ate, she would slip a small present in his schoolbag and he would pretend not to notice, because she did not to be caught in the act.  
Not even Shaw has managed to chase those memories away, they are going to haunt him forever. 

And then, then there's Charles who insisted to be informed about his date of birth so that it could be celebrated as it deserved.  
Erik remembers every little detail of what Charles has promised him, every little thing there's to know about that present that has never been delivered.  
And now that he's free - thanks to the future Magneto and Professor X, apparently - he should just go and **take** it. After all, he is damn good at demanding things and making sure he does get them, lately.  
Yeah, he should.  
"Well, happy birthday to you, Erik." he mutters to himself before heading to the mansion.

Charles woudn't fight him **today** , would he?  
Of course not.


	5. Happy Birthday, Charles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companion piece to "Happy Birthday, Erik"  
> Written for my own birthday (it was 10 days ago, but who cares).

It wasn't like Charles kept forgetting about it on purpose, it just happened. Mother was always too busy finding herself at the bottom of a scotch bottle, and both Kurt and Cain didn't really care. Maids and housekeepers knew very few things about the family they worked for - as per their masters wishes -and the little information they had did not include dates of birth.  
No presents, no "happy birthday": it was quite easy for him not to notice he just got a year older. 

All changed, though, when Raven snuck into his kitchen and became part of his family. She took it as a day to show her gratitude, a symbolic date to celebrate the first time they met.   
Every year she tried to bake cakes, to invite his classmates over, to throw a massive birthday party. Every year she failed, and the two of them would end up having pizza and ice-cream alone in the living room.   
She couldn't afford presents, but each one of those years she gave him the greatest gift he could ask for: she made sure he could **never** forget about the day he was born. She reminded him that it was okay to celebrate it, and he was delighted to do it with her.

In Oxford, really, it was simply another night in which he would end up drunk, going to bed only after humiliating himself with his poor attempts at flirting 

And then, then came Erik. Erik, who made fun of what he called a "childish and overenthusiastic attitude towards a particular day" but then demanded to know what he would get for _his_ birthday. He was definitely on board with what Charles had in mind and well, it was understandable given the unreleased sexual tension that had been there ever since they met. Charles himself would have loved to get _that_ for his birthday too. 

However, the Cuba disaster – or ‘beach divorce’, as his pupils have jokingly renamed it (somehow, all those who have seen him interact with Erik thing they are a married couple or something) – got in the way of its delivery.  
After that, he shivered at the thought of being touched by the other man and he couldn't tell anymore if it was out anticipation or disgust. He stored that gift in the depths of his mind, never to be mentioned again. He stomped on it, burned it, when the President was killed.

Days went by and, at first, he was too busy looking after the school and its students to keep track of events that were not school related. Later on, when the war came, he was simply too drunk and bitter to give a damn about it.

Things might change now, though.   
He smiles at the hushed voices in his head, who naively think that it is possible to surprise a telepath. Charles doesn't know how they found out about such a mundane detail, maybe it was Hank who told them, but he can't really care less. He is gonna sit back - and that's pretty easy, since he's on a wheelchair - and relax, enjoying whatever they have planned for him.  
He is gonna pretend to be surprised, and won't have to pretend he is moved. Especially when Raven shows up, and whispers into his ear that it was her who sent the students a memo to remind them of his birthday.

And when Erik is going to show up, just like he did on his own birthday - expecting to be given _that_ present, only to find out it had been destroyed and that Charles had no intention of replacing it with anything, except for a courteous 'Happy birthday, Erik' - they are gonna work on a brand new gift for the both of them.

"Happy birthday, Charles." will be the last thing he hears, on this day, as he falls asleep on his old friend's chest.


End file.
